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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28235802">Fated</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian'>zuotian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vassal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Femdom, Politics, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Woman on Top, not botw2 compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:00:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28235802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months following the purge of the Calamity, Link had several realizations.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vassal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fated</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is the first fic i've written since school started. now that the semester is over i wanted to dip my toes back in the water with something short and simple. of course things got a bit more complicated than that. </p><p>i had a spicier idea in mind, but i felt it needed prior development, so consider this fic a sort of prologue to a series of dom/sub zelda/link. it just occurred to me that the whole destined to be together by the goddess shtick as well as link kinda spiritually in service of zelda for all eternity leads to some....interesting directions. plus what with zelda being the manifestation of hylia, whom link also serves. very cool. </p><p>i picked the botw-verse since it's freshest in my mind (confession i've played it 3 times but have yet to actually finish it) and i thought the whole 100 year gap being apart thing would make their reconnection even more palpable and dare i say kinky. i took some creative liberties with zelda's characterization and kinda spliced her together with how i've written OoT zelda in the past, a bit more regal and mature. i know they're like 17 but that's the legal age of adulthood in hyrule afaik and in any case who the fuck cares they're immortal reincarnated video game characters if i want them to smash they're gonna smash (wind waker notwithstanding). i also felt i was within my rights to make link left handed again because i'm forever pissed they retconned that. </p><p>as far as politics go i feel like even when your ruler is confirmed to be handpicked by the goddess herself and also saved you from total destruction, 100 years of independence will make some people hesitant to sign up for governmental oversight again. just trying to flesh out the world and add political intrigue. i don't know anything about monarchies or parliamentary government don't @ me. </p><p>if you're familiar with my other work and saw that i updated and are just stopping by to see wtf is up please know i know i've got a seemingly abandoned wip which i will return to soon enough. if you're not familiar with my other work for your own sake don't look unless you're into aged up racist fourth graders. </p><p>that's as much exposition as this requires, really it was just an excuse for femdom zelda. i wrote this all in one sitting and didn't edit it whatsoever. enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the months following the purge of the Calamity Link had several realizations. </p><p>First, it was one thing to reclaim Hyrule and another thing entirely to reunify it. For one hundred years the country had been without a centralized government, and its absence was more noticeable than ever in the wake of its returned presence. First and foremost the castle needed to be repaired, which required manpower. Some villages were eager to realign themselves with the crown, while others had acclimated to independence and were hesitant to sign fealty once more. Link’s time spent trawling the land, eradicating monsters and helping the people, had garnered him a bit of good favor and a larger reputation; volunteers from either camp provided labor, if not in Zelda’s honor, than as a form of repayment for his services.</p><p>With the castle up and running and employed by monarchist villagers, the seat of government was reinstated with a new caveat. Given that the royal council had long since dissolved and its members’ descendants were untrained in the ways of government, Zelda formed a representative body of leaders from both monarchist and independent villages which she oversaw as acting chairwoman. Though the two factions butted heads and Zelda’s prominence was often called into question, political strife was set aside in favor of more pressing matters. Everyone’s chief concern was the economy: trade routes had to be reestablished, liaisons sent to rekindle relationships between the Zoras, Ritos, Geurdos, and Gorons, and several villages wanted to recover their respective industries. All this was incapacited by swarms of bandits and thieves which had emerged from the shadows in place of Calamity monsters, and throttled any widespread, systemized transportation of goods or people. </p><p>In the beginning Link observed parliamentary procedures as a silent shadow at Zelda’s shoulder, but soon enough his experience both as a traveler and fighter proved to be quite the bargaining chip when a monarchist representative suggested that he train the young men and women of her village who were eager to protect their land. An independent representative added that his own people were willing to form a militia of sorts. The monarchist stated that knightly training was a privilege belonging to those in allegiance to the crown. They went back and forth, others joined in, Link’s anxiety grew, and Zelda eventually interrupted to say that any final decision would be made on Link’s part and his alone. </p><p>All eyes fell on him. His eyes fell on Zelda. She shook her head, wordlessly deferring to him. It was in this moment that Link was struck by his second realization: he was by all accounts the last surviving member of the old royal guard.</p><p>“My allegiance is to the princess,” he said, awkwardly emulating the rhetorical candor he’d been listening to for weeks now. His memory was still ephemeral and primarily consisted of brief, dreamlike glimpses, so he didn’t clearly remember the conduct of a military official in council.</p><p>“And therefore to Hyrule,” said a monarchist from Hateno. </p><p>“If that is the case,” an independent of Lurelin said, “then we shall have two guards: one royal, one not.” </p><p>“Under whose authority?” another monarchist questioned. “If all villages have their own defense and conflicts of interests arise it could lead to civil war, which would be outside the purveyor of the princess.”   </p><p>The independent slammed his fist on the table. “Do you see us as barbarian chieftains? There’s never been such an incident in the last one hundred years, and that was without a royal chaperone!” </p><p>“The last one hundred years have been crippled by tragedy and despair,” the monarchist said. “It would do you well to remember that our princess staved off total destruction for as long as we’ve been struggling. Now that she has returned victorious, we are able to resume practical matters of ministry and commerce, which—as clearly evidenced by this meeting—are prone to contempt.” </p><p>“Regardless,” the independent seethed, “the institution of a national military leaves our villages vulnerable to subjugation.”   </p><p>Zelda cleared her throat. Link marveled at how the simple sound silenced the room and commanded everyone’s attention. “I can assure you that imperialistic occupation will not occur under my reign,” she said to the independents at large. “You’ve been without rule for a century, and I respect that you wish to remain independent in all matters, including defense. I can also recognize that my assurances will be met with distrust and suspicion. But…” She stood from her chair, swept behind Link, and gently pushed him forward—to slaughter, in his opinion. “You are all forgetting that the topic of defense will not be under my domain, but Link’s. It goes unsaid that Link has proven himself to be a capable warrior; he is also an equitable warrior. He helped all your municipalities and will continue to do so, whether you still consider yourself Hylian or not. Not only that, he assisted the four other races as well. He traveled across all of Hyrule in goodwill. He knows this land better than any of us. Not how it once was in times past, but how it stands to today. He is the best equipped to take on the mantle of protecting it.” </p><p>“All that is well and good,” an independent said, “but it still stands that he pledged his allegiance to you, princess.” </p><p>“Only as my personal guard,” Zelda said. </p><p>Link stiffened. “Princess—” </p><p>She squeezed his wrist; a bid for quiet he was compelled to obey. “Should he accept a position of military leadership, I propose that defense is cordoned off as a separate branch of government, answerable to royal and non-royal interests alike. A collaborative body, if you will.” </p><p>“Sounds overly complicated,” a monarchist complained. </p><p>Zelda nodded. “It will indeed require a consolidation of independent villages, so that they are singularly represented in larger affairs.” </p><p>The independents glanced amongst themselves. “That could be potentially arranged,” said the representative from Lurelin. He smirked. “If it allowed a naval force from Lurelin, for example.” </p><p>“With a royal counterpart,” a monarchist was quick to add. </p><p>“The details will be ironed out in due time,” Zelda said. </p><p>Link wrested his arm from her grip and whirled to face her. “And what about you, princess? If I’m not there—<em> here </em>,” he clarified, pointing down at the inches of floor space between them, “what then?” </p><p>Her face lost its hardened exterior, and her expression softened. “Link, please, not now—” </p><p>“Um, excuse me,” a small voice interjected. Link and Zelda turned to see Paya, Zelda’s acting secretary, raise her hand. “The Sheikah were once the royal family’s sworn protectors. That responsibility has been passed down through the generations, if not in practice, in tradition.” She glanced at the rest of the roundtable, no doubt unwilling to speak further in ear of un-privy parties. </p><p>Zelda’s face closed off again. She sank back into her ornamented chair. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Paya.” She turned to the parliament as a whole, shoulders broadened. “Should we move forward, my own security will be dealt with outside of these proceedings. For now Link remains my personal guard. We will wait until he makes his decision before further discussion on defense. I know this is a slow, arduous process, but these things cannot be taken lightly, and I appreciate all of your patience and participation.” For lack of an official gavel, she gave the table a light smack with her open palm. “This meeting is adjourned. I will send couriers when we are ready to reconvene with new developments. If you have any other concerns, please note them with Paya.” </p><p>The representatives rustled upwards with a collection of grunts and sighs. Independents either unaffectedly abdicated the room or approached Paya with complaints, whilst monarchists flocked to Zelda to perform loyalist abdulations. Generally Link would stay until he and Zelda were the only ones in the room, whereupon she would relinquish her royal persona and become her usual self. But for the first time since the parliament was created, Link turned on his heel and left, unsure whether her mask was really a mask at all, and if what laid underneath was any more genuine than what she affixed on top of it. </p><p>Spurred by muscle memory ingrained a hundred years ago, his steps took him down to the knights’ training grounds. He unsheathed a salvaged royal broadsword, his scabbard no longer encumbered by the mighty weight of the Master Sword, which was safely sitting in the Korok forest pedestal under watch of the Great Deku tree and would hopefully remain there, unneeded, for eons to come; or, at least, as long as Link was alive. </p><p>Any strawman dummies or practice targets had long since crumbled to dusted. Likewise had any fellow knights. Link went through his forms alone, parrying and dodging invisible assailants. They took on many forms in his mind—human, monster, and machine—but they all eventually coalesced into the dark, malignant miasma that was Calamity Ganon. In remembrance of his ultimate foe Link redoubled his efforts, persevering through his burning muscles, short breath, and tired feet. </p><p>Time fell away. He didn’t notice the sinking sun until it took with it the warmth of day. He came to again when the cold air corroborated the sweat on his skin. He dropped his sword and his left arm hung limply at his side, aching with exertion. </p><p>The oily, magenta blackness still clouding his mind parted. Zelda stepped through its remnants in light of the bloodless moon. She had divested her stately gown in favor of a more casual pair of trousers and white blouse. Her hair was tied in a loose knot, from which tendrils had escaped and now framed her open face. </p><p>“Princess,” Link said, expertly schooling the exhaustion out of his voice. He snatched his blade from the ground and returned it to its scabbard, then clicked his heels and bowed in a satirical show of subservience. “Have you come to summon me to fulfill my duties as your political pawn?” </p><p>“Please don’t talk like that,” Zelda besieged. “I expect it from the parliament, and I can handle it from Paya, but you, Link…” She sighed and sat down in the dirt criss-crossed with the marks of Link’s exercise. “You’re different. You’re my friend.” </p><p>Link straightened. “Didn’t seem like it earlier today.” </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Zelda said. She sounded tired, and very young. “Will you sit by me? Please?” </p><p>Link bit off a sigh and hunkered down across from her, ungainly. A cloud of dirt puffed then settled across both their laps. </p><p>“I’m a princess one day,” Zelda said, “queen in all but title the next. One hundred years in between notwithstanding.” </p><p>Link couldn’t help but snort at that. Zelda grinned, but it was short-lived. </p><p>“I’ve been reading my father’s books,” she continued, “but they aren’t much help. Not as much as he would’ve been, anyway.” She bent her elbows on her knees and put her chin in her hands, canting her head to give Link a sidelong glance. “It’s a lot of responsibility to wake up to. I shouldn’t have put you in the same position.” </p><p>“I don’t care about that,” Link said, then blinked at the realization.</p><p>Zelda, too, appeared confused. “You do know what it entails, right? You’d be captain of the knights. It’s a lot less adventuring, more bureaucracy. You’d have to contribute to parliament, not just watch.” </p><p>“I’m sure that’s not nearly as entertaining,” Link quipped. He shrugged and looked at the sky, cutout from the stone colonnade that framed the training grounds. “You were right, what you said. I’m the best one for the job. Pretty much the only one for the job. If it’s what you want, I’ll do it.” </p><p>“But what do you want?” Zelda asked. </p><p>Link chewed his lip, thinking. “When I lost my memory, I was...haunted. Like I had failed. I assumed it was because we couldn’t defeat Ganon. And maybe that was part of it. But as I put the pieces back together, I realized it was because of you.” He returned his gaze to Zelda. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed you. I want to be by your side. I can’t let it happen again.” </p><p>“Oh, Link.” Zelda dropped her head, scraped her hands through her hair, then looked up with misty eyes. “You protected me a million times over. What happened happened, for a variety of reasons.” Her gaze loosened, fixed on nothing in front of her, but behind, in the past. “I used to blame myself. But I think, in a terrible way, it was meant to be. One can only do so much before you’re forced to submit to the whims of fate.” </p><p>Link quirked his lips, trying for brevity. “Do any of your father’s books include poetry?” </p><p>Zelda was shocked back into the present moment with laughter. She slapped Link’s shoulder. Her touch lingered; she flattened her hand on Link’s shoulder and spoke once more, with seriousness. “Regardless, we’re here now. And, no offense, but I can protect myself.” </p><p>“You protected all of Hyrule,” Link said. “Meanwhile I was taking a nap.” </p><p>“Until you woke up to finish what I couldn’t,” Zelda said. “We make a good team.” </p><p>Warmth blossomed in Link’s chest and colored his cheeks. “We do.” </p><p>“Let me show you,” Zelda said. </p><p>Before Link could reply, she shuffled closer, folded the sleeve of his tunic, and cupped her hands around his left forearm. Light did not emit from her palms, but the effect didn’t require visualization, for Link felt the ache in his muscles bleed away.</p><p>His lips parted. He glanced up. “Zelda…” </p><p>“I held Ganon at bay for one hundred years,” she said, not to boast but to reassure. “I am capable of more than you know. More than I ever thought I could be.” </p><p>“I always knew,” he said. </p><p>“Then trust me,” she said. “The Sheikah will protect me in your stead. It is their birthright.” </p><p>Link swallowed, curling closer toward Zelda, wishing her magic could suffuse him whole. “And what is mine, now that Ganon is gone?”  </p><p>“To protect Hyrule,” Zelda said. “To ensure that our efforts were not in vain. That hubris will not overtake peace.” </p><p>Link shook his head. “No.”</p><p>Zelda’s brow crinkled. “No? Link, you’ve seen how people answer to you! Everyone does, even those who don’t answer to me. They look up to you, revere you—”</p><p>“I swore my allegiance to you, and I won’t take it back,” Link said. A deep, soulful desperation clawed at him. He put his hand over Zelda’s, still on his arm, as if she would leave him at any moment. Not taken away, kidnapped or killed, but of her own accord, in sight of higher purposes that sent his own purpose elsewhere, away from her. “I want to help you. I want to do what you need me to. But… When I was asleep, when I woke up, I heard you. I followed your voice. And now that I have you, I can’t—” His breath locked in his throat. “Princess—Zelda—” </p><p>“Link, please!” Zelda rolled onto her knees and slipped her arm around his shoulders, tucking him against her side. “Calm yourself. It’s alright. I see what the problem is.” </p><p>Link pressed closer, his voice muffled by the fabric of her blouse. “You do?” </p><p>“Yes,” Zelda said. He felt her heart stutter a nervous beat before she leaned backwards and looked down at him. “Link, you are my charge.” </p><p>Something within her voice, her gaze, her hold, set all of Link’s worries at ease. All he had to do was confirm what he knew to be true. “Yes,” he said, breathless for reasons he did not know, unrelated to anxiety or the physical duress of training. </p><p>“You are mine,” Zelda said, “and that will never change, no matter where you are, who you are with, whether you are by my side or not. And everyone will know it.” </p><p>“Yes,” Link said. </p><p>“Yes,” Zelda agreed. She popped to her feet. “Stand.” </p><p>Link stood. She led him back inside the castle, warmed by a circuit of fireplaces stoked around the clock by their skeleton crew of servants. The hallways, once populated by knights, maids, councilors, cooks, tutors, and aides of all other sorts, were empty and echoed with their footsteps. </p><p>They arrived at her bedroom. “Shut the door,” Zelda said. </p><p>Link wordlessly obeyed. When he turned back Zelda was standing in the middle of the room. He’d been here before, to chat and console; sometimes, months ago at the start of all that since came after, he would sleep with her in bed, either to abate her nightmares or his own. The room looked the same, as did Zelda, but both felt different. She stood before him almost cold but not cruel, distant yet still close. A new mask, perhaps, but that felt wrong; maybe she was exposed, down to a level he hadn’t yet seen from her. Something primal, subconscious. Fated. </p><p>“Have you had sex, Link?” she asked. </p><p>The question nearly took him out of the moment, but the composed manner in which she phrased it retained his surprise. “A few stablehands. Roadside travelers. It was before...before I remembered you.” </p><p>“That’s alright,” Zelda assured. "I was just wondering."</p><p>"Have you…?” Link ventured. </p><p>“Grammar school and court galas were not such robust affairs as my father thought them to be,” Zelda said. She shuttered her smile and lifted her hands to the buttons of her blouse. “I would like to show you how I own you, Link; to lay your worries to rest.” Her hands paused at the last button and she looked up. “If you don’t want to, or if you’d rather we continue on a more...congenial foot, please let me know.” </p><p>“No,” Link said. “I mean—yes. Please. This.” He licked his lips, fastened to the subterranean root of her gaze. “I don’t know what this is, but I think I need it.” </p><p>Zelda unfastened the final button of her blouse and discarded the garment. Link was drawn to her clavicle first: two twin blades of bone that arced gracefully toward her shoulders. His eyes traveled downward to her small, firm breasts, then the divet of her navel, then the waist of her trousers and up again. Her physique was not toned like his but still held an inner strength borne of something beyond the physical. It was in the air around her, in the way she moved and operated. The same stuff the goddesses graced her with, mixed with a mortal grace all her own.</p><p>He met her eyes, partly censored by erstwhile strands of flaxen hair. “Princess.” </p><p>Zelda pointed at her feet. “Kneel before me.” </p><p>He walked forward and lowered to his knees, operating on some instinct outside of himself that rippled across the annals of time, whether it be one hundred or ten thousand years. His scabbard clanged against stone; his leather accoutrements creaked uncomfortably. He looked up the bowline of Zelda’s stomach, over the modest curve of her breasts, enthralled by something adjacent to but not quite sexual in nature. </p><p>“Princess,” he repeated. </p><p>“Do not beg, hero,” Zelda scorned. “It is unbecoming.” </p><p>He closed his eyes, woozy with it all, and nodded dumbly. Tears sprung at his cornea. He bade them not to fall but they fell anyway, down the scarred landscape of his face pockmarked with the throes of battle. </p><p>Zelda’s breath hitched, her newfound nature rattled by the show of emotion. She placed her palm on Link’s cheek and held it there. Her magic seeped through his skin, warm and bright, filled with both girlish laughter and womanly fortitude. </p><p>“I feel so old, Link,” she whispered. “And so young at the same time. Don’t you?” </p><p>Link nodded. “Yes.” </p><p>“We are connected,” Zelda said. “Do you feel it?” </p><p>“Yes,” Link said, firmer, despite the tears that continued to track down his face. </p><p>“You’re crying,” Zelda observed. “That’s okay. You can cry.” </p><p>The allowance caused Link to stop. He blinked his eyes open, sniffing, but was unable to meet Zelda’s eyes, and instead focused on her stomach. “Zelda...” </p><p>She scratched her nails through his hair, loosening his ponytail in the process. “Shhh, Link. It’s okay. You’re with me now.” </p><p>His hair unfurled, brushing his shoulders. He felt soft and vulnerable. His scabbard scraped against the ground when he shifted his legs, and he nearly reached for the hilt of his blade to reassure himself. But that wasn’t what this exercise was about. </p><p>Zelda bent down, squatting to his level. Her one hand remained in his hair while the other unfastened the connections to his scabbard. It dropped from his belt with a muted thump. She set it upright against the footpost of her bed, de-weaponizing him altogether. He shivered at the lack. His hands reached up to her sides before he was cognitively aware of it. She returned his embrace, probably a degree too close to maternal if anyone were watching them, but it felt right, like coming home, like returning to some unknowable source. </p><p>They remained like this for a while: kneeling on the floor, holding each other, as Link silently cried and Zelda emanated invisible light. His tears and snot smeared onto the pearlescent skin of her breasts. She did not let go until his trembling ceased.</p><p>Something inside of Link shifted. Expunged of the existential weight that had plagued him since he awoke from his otherworldly slumber, he went limp and weightless as Zelda set to undressing him. She began with his outer trappings: his belt, his boots, his outer vest, and then his tunic and trousers. The warm firelight stretched across the room and forbade the cold from soaking into his bones, as did Zelda’s magic which now ensconced him in a gauzy cocoon. </p><p>Link looked down at himself dazedly, apathetic to the smattering of thick, ropy scars quilted across his skin. Zelda inspected each one. He briefly wondered if she could erase them, then thought she would never allow herself to do so, or allow him to even consider such a thing. She’d probably call them a record of conquests or library of perseverance or some other poetic analogy. Link did not think in poetry, he thought in action, and the lack thereof opened his mind to a soft state of being he never once believed he could inhabit. </p><p>“Princess,” he slurred. </p><p>“Oh, you,” Zelda sighed, brightening with amusement as he slumped forward. “You’re sweet, Link. Such a sweet, good boy.” </p><p>Link’s head buzzed at the praise from his holder. “Goddess,” he said. An expletive or title, he wasn’t sure and no longer cared which. </p><p>“That’s it, dear,” Zelda encouraged. He clung to her as she made to rise, forcing her to practically lift him up as she got to her feet. “Lie down, my pet.” </p><p>He did as she commanded, sprawling across her bed. She sat on her knees between his legs, prim and collected and still far too clothed for his liking. But he was in no mind to comment or complain, and merely watched her watch him as the heat beneath his skin grew even hotter. </p><p>He twitched in anticipation as she made her first move, which was to unbind her hair. It fell down her shoulders, stopping just below her breasts. She then loosened the ties of her trousers and slid them down her thighs, exposing a thatch of mousy curls. Link swallowed thickly and felt himself thicken in response. </p><p>Zelda kicked her clothes to the floor. Fully naked, she appeared as some illuminated manuscript depiction of the goddess turned flesh. She was also human, her skin worldly tarnished by minor stretchmarks and blemishes and scars earned in times of girlhood and war alike. Having advanced to the other side of both strenuous endeavours, she straddled Link’s body with the same presence of a man in conquest. They were equals, she and him: two halves of a whole. Servant and master, liege and lady, knight and princess, disciple and goddess. </p><p>Her hair raked across his bare chest, her knees grazed his thighs. Each point of inadvertent contact was electric. When she dipped down to seal her lips on his skin, he arched his back and moaned. He briefly recalled heated gossip overheard late at night in roadside inns: talk of sexual debauchery, bondage, restraint. He yearned for less control so that she could have more. </p><p>Link fisted the silk bed sheets, corralling himself to submission, to inaction which he hadn’t been able to afford in what felt like his entire existence. Zelda, likewise inspired to action, roved her mouth across his chest, his neck. She tongued the apple of his throat and the scruff that had grown across his jaw. She nibbled his pierced earlobe, pecked his cheeks, lathed the wet remains of his tears. He shivered and gasped and stayed still underneath her, beholden to her decree.</p><p>Her mouth found his and they kissed. Link supposed it was their first kiss, but considering all that had happened between them it did not feel like it. Her lips slotted perfectly against his, and her tongue against his tongue. Their noses bumped, awkward and clumsy; Zelda pressed closer, apathetic to any precursor of embarrassment, or the drool that dribbled down both their chins. </p><p>They parted breathless and bleary-eyed. “Zelda,” Link cried, unable to withhold himself any longer. “Princess, please—mistress—”</p><p>Zelda’s brow rose. “Mistress?” </p><p>Link’s teeth snapped together. “It’s—it’s nothing, forget it, just something I heard once—” </p><p>Zelda hummed. She propped herself on her elbow, trailing her other hand across Link’s muscled abdomen which fluttered at her touch. “I like it.” </p><p>His nostrils flared. “You do?” </p><p>“Mmhmm,” she confirmed. “It’s quite...thematically appropriate.” She cocked her head at a deceivingly innocent angle. “Say it again.” </p><p>“Mistress,” Link said. </p><p>“Again,” Zelda bid.</p><p>“Mistress,” he repeated. </p><p>Her hand closed around his throat. “Once more.” </p><p>“Mistress,” he wheezed. </p><p>She relaxed her hold, and his lungs expanded in relief. “Good, my pet.” </p><p>“Oh,” he sighed. “Oh, Zelda, I like that.” </p><p>Now she exhibited pleasant surprise. “You do?” </p><p>Link nodded. “Uh-huh.” </p><p>“Well then,” she grinned. She tossed her leg over his hips and lifted up, bracing her hands on his stomach. Her buttocks brushed against his length still trapped within his undershorts, and he keened loudly. “Is there something you want, my pet?” </p><p>“Ahhh,” Link moaned. “Goddess, Zelda. Mistress. Please.” </p><p>“Please, what?” Zelda said. </p><p>“Please,” Link said. “Touch me.” </p><p>Zelda chuckled. “You’re such a man of few words. We will have to change that. Luckily for you…” She hooked her thumb over the hem of his shorts and pushed them down his thighs, freeing his throbbing cock. “I believe this is what you meant?” </p><p>“Ohh,” Link breathed. “Oh, yes, mistress.” </p><p>She detoured to her bedside table. Link twisted his head after her in curiosity, and glimpsed an unmistakably phallic object in her drawer whilst she retrieved a bottle of oil. </p><p>“So nosy, my pet,” Zelda chided. </p><p>Link abruptly recentered his gaze, abashed. “Ah, just…” </p><p>“Jealous?” Zelda wondered aloud. “You will be inside of me soon enough.” </p><p>Before he could formulate a reply—not that he would’ve been able—Zelda slathered a palmful of oil over his cock. He grunted and bucked his hips, pistoning his length in the slick channel of her fist. The mattress creaked beneath them and the bedpost rattled; his scabbard, forgotten till now, fell from its lean and clangored against the floor. </p><p>Zelda made no attempt to quiet or immobilize him, despite the fact a servant could walk past her door at any moment. A series of possibilities flashed through Link’s mind: getting caught under the princess’ control; letting her do this in parliament, jerking him off as he prostrated across the roundtable; her tying him up and gagging him so that discovery was of no concern; utilizing her toy on him instead. They all melted together in a soupy, lustful haze. Heat washed over his body. His cock pulsed in her hand. If she applied just a bit more pressure, he’d— </p><p>“Ah!” Link cried. </p><p>Zelda smeared the oil off on the bed sheets as his cock bobbed unattended, beading pre-cum. “Nearly there, my pet.” </p><p>She quickly fingered herself with a few cursory flicks of her wrist. Link’s toes curled as he imagined what that wet heat would’ve felt like around his own fingers. His feet then flexed outward as she steadied his cock at the base and rose upward on her knees, her other hand flat on his navel. </p><p>His eyes snapped to hers. “Say it, Link,” she ordered. </p><p>“Mistress,” he gasped. “Zelda, princess—please, oh—ohhh...” </p><p>A whine sounded at the base of Zelda’s throat as she sank down onto him. “Oh, Link…” </p><p>“Nayru, Din, and Farore,” he cursed. “In the name of Hylia—” </p><p>She squeezed around him and he gasped, moved to speechlessness. She was so slick and swollen and warm and unlike anyone he’d laid with before. Something about her body molded to his. His blood boiled and his brain turned to mush. He could not speak and instead caterwauled wordless vocalizations that echoed across the room. </p><p>He felt the strength in her thighs as she tautened her legs across his lap. She swiveled her hips, lifted up, and sank back down. Link was overwhelmed with the sensation of repeatedly entering her, then feeling her walls scrape up his cock only to swallow him once more. His hands cramped with how tightly he was holding the bed sheets. He did not want to grasp Zelda’s waist, nor buck up into her lest he mitigate the impact of her domination. That all seemed like a privilege that required permission, which she had not explicitly given. In any case he was happy to experience her as such: localized in one point, at her mercy, at her ever-increasing pace. </p><p>In a momentous show of patience, she slowed to a stop and held him deep inside of her. Link realized his eyes were closed, opened them, and shook his bangs out of his face to see what the trouble was. “Zelda?” he asked. “Are you alright?” </p><p>She nodded.  “I wanted to see you.” </p><p>Link blushed. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Don’t,” she said. “If you’ve done something wrong, I will let you know when penance is required. Otherwise I don’t want you apologizing needlessly.” She took a deep breath and restarted her ministrations. “So strong for me. Let me protect you, like this.” </p><p>“Yes,” Link said. “Yes, mistress.” </p><p>“Goddess,” Zelda moaned. “You feel so good.” </p><p> “Oh,” Link said. “You do too.” </p><p>Zelda lifted her hand and licked her fingertips, as Link had seen her done while studying. But instead of flipping a page in a book she reached down and began rubbing her clit at the apex of where Link was spreading her open, sometimes eclipsing her curls and catching her fingernails on his cock in her haste. If anything the sharp pain magnified his pleasure; he was well-accustomed to pain, and in this context, coming from her, he rather enjoyed it. </p><p>“Link,” she said. “Link, oh, Link—” </p><p>She slammed her hips down, holding him in place, and clamped around his cock, hurriedly circling her fingers. Her face scrunched up and her entire frame shook with release. She then tilted her head back, moaning, rocking back and forth as she rode out the last of her climax. Wetness spilled down Link’s cock, claiming him, dirtying him.</p><p>“Zelda,” he choked out. “Please, help.” </p><p>Her head lolled forward. She licked her lips and leaned down, torquing his cock at a nearly uncomfortable angle; he slipped out of her just as she kissed him, her breasts pleasantly squashed against his chest. She laid on her side, right on top of his sword arm, and continued kissing his mouth, his jaw, his neck as she grasped his cock and, aided by leftover oil and the evidence of her own release, brought him to completion. </p><p>Link must’ve blacked out for a moment, for the next thing he knew he was rambling senselessly into Zelda’s breasts as she cradled him. He belatedly ceased bucking his hips, his cock now over-sensitive and raw, dripping in cum and softening against her thigh. </p><p>He licked his lips, breathing heavily, and looked up in fright when she attempted to move. “Mistress…” </p><p>Zelda shushed him with a peck to his nose. “You did very, very well, my pet. I’m just fetching some water.” </p><p>Embarrassed by his anxiety, Link’s cheeks reddened. He grasped a pillow from the head of the mattress to lay his head upon. By the time he was situated, Zelda had padded back across the room with a vase of water and cups on a tray, as well as silk handkerchief—the kind bestowed to knights in fables, which she presently used to wipe their spend off his cock and her thigh. </p><p>The whole thing—all of it—sent Link into a fit of giggles. Zelda followed suit. She thumbed saliva off his chin once she quieted, then angled his back against her arm so that she could tip a cup of water against his lips. He drank greedily, instantly overcome with thirst. Zelda’s soft touch and thoughtful aftercare nearly caused his cock to stir, but he was too tired, physically and emotionally, to manage true arousal. </p><p>Once he was cleansed to her liking she pulled the blankets up and sidled beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her hair fell across his eyes, a crtain of silky darkness. He laid in her hold, nuzzling her breasts and smelling the sweat on her skin, until his mind had for the most part reverted back to its pre-coital state. </p><p>“I’ll do it,” he whispered. </p><p>Zelda stirred, and looked down. “What’s that, my pet?” </p><p>“Become the captain of the knights,” Link said. “Play politics and travel and train soldiers. Whatever it is you need me to do, I will, as your minister of defense.”</p><p>Zelda grinned. “See? You already have such lofty titles in mind.” </p><p>“But I will need this,” Link said, unswayed. He hid his face in her chest once more, listening for the sound of her steady heartbeat. “When I’m here, and whenever I come back. I need this, as your…” </p><p>“My charge,” Zelda offered. “My pet. My vassal.” </p><p>Link closed his eyes. “Yes, princess.” </p><p>Zelda sighed. “I can’t make promises. You may be gone for quite a long time, depending, Goddess forbid, on any future conflicts. Besides that, the loyalists to the family will want an heir, eventually… I can’t be the last in line.” She shook her head, and kissed his forehead. “But it doesn’t serve either of us to dwell on what-ifs. No matter what, I will give this to you, Link. For I need it, too.” </p><p>Given the course of the last one hundred years Link had lost faith in certainties, besides the one between him and Zelda. It was unshakable and infallible, and if she could not promise him anything else besides this, that was more than enough for him. As he fell asleep in her arms, he was arrested by his third and most important realization: he was in love with the princess whom he served. </p>
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